


all that remains

by romanoff



Series: Post-Infinity War Snippets [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Loss, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-29 00:26:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14461095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanoff/pseuds/romanoff
Summary: Nebula and Tony are left on Titan, united by a common goal





	all that remains

**Author's Note:**

> so i am just.... shook at the idea of how these two are supposed to get off this dumb planet ?? like of all the ppl to just ...... leave together, these two ??
> 
> anyway, spoilers, obvi

The human hasn’t moved. While Nebula scoured the earth for anything – weapons, perhaps another who wasn’t taken by the dust – the human sat there, pathetically, and wept. She doesn’t pity him. She had admired him, briefly; going toe to toe with Thanos is not an easy feat, and it takes bravery – balls, as Quill would have said.  
   
Still, losing the child has hurt him, or maybe just losing in general. Nebula thinks, this is a man who is not accustomed to losing. Loss, maybe. But he’s a man who likes to win.  
   
She doesn’t have this problem. She lost the day she was born.  
   
“Get up,” she says, brusquely.  
   
The human doesn’t respond, just rocks slightly, back and forth, like a child whose father has punished them for a misdemeanour. “Get up,” she says again, “Quill arrived in the Milano. It might still be here.”  
   
When he doesn’t rouse, she kicks him, hard in the side. He chokes, gasps, clutches at his belly. Oh, he had been wounded. Of course, she remembers now. Maybe he’s still hurt, and that’s why he does not move. A better reason, than patheticness.  
   
“Are you wounded?” She asks. “Do you need medical attention?”  
   
“Leave me,” he croaks, “just go.”  
   
“Oh, I would love to,” she grits out, hooking her hands under his arms, “but your life is worth something, human. Your life is worth an infinity stone. Are you going to let the Wizard’s sacrifice go to waste? They’re dead because of you.”  
   
The human groans. He wraps his hands around Nebula’s wrists, tries to get free. “Leave me,” he chokes, “just leave me, _go,_ let me die – “  
   
“If I had it my way, I’d shoot you now. Good clean death. But he killed my sister, and I want revenge, and apparently I _need_ you.” Nebula fails to see how; the human is old, and weak. His mind is splintered. Nebula has faced worse and not broken like _this._ This race is surely feeble.  
   
She never did like Quill. Now she knows why. Mushy, and emotional. No good.  
   
The human’s suit tries to wrap around him, but it was damaged in the fight. Frail, he tries to crawl away, to lie himself out on the rock and wait to die. Nebula rolls her eyes. “Don’t you have _fight?”_ She spits. “Don’t have you have any soul left in you? Don’t you have – a family, or friends, people you want to revenge – “  
   
“Avenge,” he says absently, staring at the sky.  
   
“What?”  
   
“The word is ‘avenge’. Revenge would mean – getting revenge on the people I miss. You revenge the lost. You avenge them.”  
   
“I don’t care for semantics,” she snaps. “If you cannot walk of your own accord, I will drag you.”  
   
“Through the wormhole,” the human mutters. “Saw death, came out the other end.”  
   
He is worse than mad, then. He is also a fool. Nebula hooks her hands under his arms and drags him. The stones cut him, make him bleed, but he just mutters to himself, delirious, unhearing.  
   
This is the fool Thanos saw as equal. He showed this man more respect in one fight than he showed Nebula her entire life. And yet, he she is, still with fire in her heart, while this idiot gabbles and tears at his clothes and weeps at his hands like a mother with the blood of her baby on her palms.  
   
Pathetic.  
   
She leaves him on the floor of the ship in a crumple. He sobs. She wishes she could gag him.  
   
“You are from earth?” She calls, flipping on the gears. “Quill’s planet. There were stones on earth. That’s where he would have gone.”  
   
“Gone?” The man breathes, sitting up, pushing himself against the wall. “To earth? You think he’s still there, are you stupid? He did it. He clicked his fingers, he got what he wanted. He’s not on earth, he could be anywhere – “  
   
“Then we will go to him.”  
   
The man is shaking his head, drying his eyes. “Wait,” he says, “no. No, no, you can’t – you won’t be able to stop him – “  
   
“You will.”  
   
The man’s eyes widens. His face becomes incredulous. Oh, _now_ he has fight, right when Nebula would prefer him dulled. “Me? Are you – insane? Did you not _see_ what happened? I couldn’t even – for one scratch! And he stabbed me! I should be dead, I – “  
   
“The wizard said you were needed, that only you could – “  
   
“That’s not what he said!” The man says, standing, shakily supporting himself with the wall. “There’s only one way we win. Maybe Strange saw me alive, at the end, when we take him down. But it’s not me alone. I have a team on earth – Jesus, I – had a team. Some of them will still be alive. We have to go to earth, not – “  
   
“He is not on earth,” Nebula says, stubbornly. “We have to go to him.”  
   
“No! We have to plan, we have to regroup – “  
   
“I do not work with _teams,”_ Nebula mutters, hitting the engine.  
   
“Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?”  
   
“I don’t know,” she says, turning. “How did it work out for you? What do you have left?”  
   
The human looks like he’s sucking a rock. “Fine,” he says, “good point. But if I’m crucial, then it’s up to me what happens next. Strange thinks I’m important. It should be my word – “  
   
“You want to give up,” Nebula scoffs. “You want to go back to your planet and curl up in a bed and weep – “  
   
“Absolutely I do. Doesn’t mean I’m – do you not have emotions?” The human asks, and it’s not cutting, or cruel; he’s genuinely wondering. “Like, your species, are they some kind of Vulcan – “  
   
“I have anger. And fear.”  
   
“And love,” the human points out. “You must, because when he said he killed your sister – “  
   
“Be quiet.”  
   
“But you have love. And you want to avenge. That’s good. My team – we’re called the Avengers, it’s what we do.”  
   
The man’s eyes are empty, even as he speaks. Soulless. He has been stretched thin, pulled apart.  
   
Nebula knows the feeling.  
   
“You wanted me to leave you. You wanted to die. What’s changed?”  
   
The man shrugs a shoulder. “Nothing.”  
   
A grudging respect, then. The man will die, but on his own terms. Avenging.  
   
“It will take three days,” Nebula tells him, turning back to the controls.  
   
“Thank you,” he says. “ _Thank you.”_  
   
She grunts. She doesn’t need thanks for doing what is required.  
   
“I – I don’t know your name,” the human asks. “Your sister – “  
   
“Was Gamora,” she says. “Quill was the leader of the Guardians. Drax was an oaf. Mantis was an idiot. But they were a team. I’ll say their names,” she decides. “They’re gone, but they were here, once.”  
   
“They were,” the man murmurs. “We have proof. I still have – dust on my hands.”  
   
“My name is Nebula,” she tells him. “I’m the least favoured daughter of Thanos.”  
   
“Maybe you got lucky, then.”  
   
Despite herself, Nebula smiles, hardened, sharpened, with teeth. “Perhaps.”  
   
“My name’s Tony.”  
   
“I didn’t ask.”  
   
“Yeah, well I’m telling you.” A beat. “The kid – the kid was Peter. He was sixteen. Strange was the sorcerer supreme. He was – better than I gave him credit for.”  
   
Nebula grunts. “Remember their names,” she says. “The next time you want to lie down and waste away on a rock, remember their names.”  
   
She hears him, later, in the dark of what would be night. “Peter _,”_ he murmurs, head held in hands, curled on what was once Drax's bunk. “Strange. Pepper, Rhodey, Bruce, Happy. Natasha. Thor. Clint.” A beat, a hanging silence. “Steve.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm loving writing these. your thoughts are much much appreciated !! if u have any other characters / plots that u would like some closure on, hmu ! i want to write it ! comment here or inbox my tumblr:
> 
> writingromanoff.tumblr.com


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